A Dignified Dog
by 1Cyan1
Summary: Some of Repede's thoughts on human behaviour, and why he cannot bring himself to let Estelle near him.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any rights to Tales of Vesperia. If I did, I wouldn't have had to wait 4 hours for it to download onto my 360 because there weren't any hard copies in Game.

It has been a looooooong time since I've tried to write anything fictional, in fact I haven't logged into this site for almost 5 years. And its my first attempt at writing anything vaguely humorous, so don't be surprised if you barely twitch your lip up. And these might seem pretty sophisticated thoughts for a dog, but come on, he smokes a pipe, he must have some class.

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><p><span>A Dignified Dog<span>

Contrary to the princess' belief, Repede did not distrust her. In fact, he counted on her abilities as a healer and skill with the sword and shield in combat and frequently placed his life in her hands with faith that she would prevail. But he simply could not let her 'pet' him, as humans called it.

Humans were a vastly unpredictable species when it came to their minds and actions – influenced, he supposed, by their treatment and upbringing during their younger years rather than their genetic traits. If someone were to insult the princess, Repede would predict her attacker to be met with a visibly upset expression (how much depending on the severity of the insult) and an enquiry as to why they had slighted her. However, if someone were to insult the mage-girl, assuming they survived the encounter, they would be left with the inability to make such an insult again for a very long time and quite visible marks of their mistake. Both the girls were a similar age, were the same gender, both could handle themselves in a battle and spent exceeding amounts of their time indoors as children. So with no solid factors to base a judgement of human behaviour on, Repede always made sure to observe the humans he would be frequently interacting with to determine their actions in different situations – one of which happened to be what they would do if he allowed them to touch him.

His closest human friend would always restrict his affections to light pats and the odd stroke of his back. The lance-wielding woman, who wore about a third as much fabric as the rest of his companions, ruffled the fur just below his neck and gave a few strokes just atop his head. In his mind, this was a perfectly acceptable display of affection – akin to the human handshake or a pat on the back. It was also the behaviour he would have come to expect from them based on their actions and personality. Not that Repede considered his judgement infallible on all occasions, but when it came to hands making contact with his body, he preferred caution rather than to put all his theories to the test.

The young boy, while still needing substantial improvement in confidence, was certainly strong physically. Being able to wield a weapon as heavy as he did, and at his age, gave no doubt to that. What Repede did doubt was that he knew his own strength at all times. The pats would be too hard, the stroking would probably mould down his fur for a few hours and any scratches may well need healing abilities to repair the damage. Of course, the canine could handle that treatment without so much as a bristle of fur, but if the purpose of 'petting' was to show affection to an animal and make it comfortable in your presence, what was the point of subjecting himself to the young man's assault? However, he made few attempts at getting close, so it was not a bother to the hound. Similarly, the angry girl had no interest in touching him, and neither did the archer with the purple coat. From what Repede gathered, the older companion was more interested in placing his hands on females of his own species rather than animals.

But the princess… Repede shuddered at the mere thought of what she would put him through. Multitudes of stroking, none too mild, that idiotic shaking of the paws, as if it was some great accomplishment he was able to lift his front leg, and she may even attempt to rub his underside, near his stomach, which is approaching pretty personal levels for someone who isn't even the same species as you. And she may even ask him those strange rhetorical questions that are somehow transformed into compliments for doing nothing of importance. "Aren't you a good dog Repede?" "You're a good boy, aren't you?" Repede was open to praise as much as the next dagger-twirling canine, but receiving it for menial tasks like picking up a ball or simply allowing his fur to be stroked seemed insulting more than anything else.

He supposed it was because that is what your average dog would enjoy and appreciate from his or her human companions, but as he had proved time and again, Repede was _not_ your average dog and held himself with a certain dignity that meant he certainly did not appreciate that kind of treatment. Entering a territory marking competition with another canine may damage that persona in the eyes of a human, but since the taboo against such actions in public was an exclusively human concern, he really couldn't care less about whether it was classed by them as dignified behaviour or not. He was comfortable with that aspect of his canine nature, but uncomfortable with being fondled like a human child's cuddly toy. He did not believe the princess could be trusted to remember that if he allowed her to pet him, and he also knew that the longer he prevented her from doing so, the more enthusiastic and humiliating her actions would be if he finally did allow it, since the pink haired teenager had a huge capacity for over the top enthusiasm, and the release of it could be a sight to behold.

However, running proportionally to this increase of the princess' pent up passion for petting was the disappointment and hurt feelings of said princess each time he refused her. And Repede did not want to hurt her in any way. Not only because when the princess became unhappy, it had a way of bringing down the mood of his best friend too, but also because he did enjoy his travels with his companions, and trusted her as both a fellow fighter and a friend. Thus the hound found himself seriously considering allowing the potential empress of the empire to show him how much she could really embarrass him. Maybe she would surprise him. After all, she had a gentle nature and a great care for the feelings of others, perhaps she would hold back her decimation of his pride if she could understand that he was only allowing her to pet him for her sake, not his. All predictions must come to the test in order to be facts, after all. If and when they survived their imminent cataclysm, he may well swallow his pride and put the princess to the test.

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><p>No. No, no, no, no, no. He could not possibly be enjoying this. Then why was his tail wagging? No. He must just be pleased she was happy that he was allowing her to pet him: that must be it. It had started with his highest hope – that she would restrain herself and restrict her actions to the non-embarrassing ones that he preferred. Unfortunately, she became bolder, and did indeed lift his paws in a handshake gesture, and run her hands over the fur on his back just too quickly and frequently to be comfortable. Bizarrely, she even cupped his face in her hands, and upon seeing his bewildered expression (well, a dog would recognise it as such) burst into giggles, which was more than a little strange. Her hands had kept away from his underside though, and she had not spoke at all, let alone with inane babble, as if she were communicating with a puppy, so he was thankful for small favours.<p>

It was not any of this that had shaken him to the core though. What had done so was the realisation that despite the discomfort, the oddities and the degradation of all the dignity he thought he held with such high importance, he didn't want to simply jump out of her grip and escape. Surrendering himself to the knowledge, that maybe, just maybe, he had a small desire to just simply be a run of the mill, simple dog now and then, he braced himself for more of the princess' onslaught. Perhaps he could cope with this after all. And then…

"Who's a good dog, Repede?"

Ok, that was _it_.

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><p><strong>Notes: <strong>After finishing the game, I remembered that Estelle had wanted to get Repede to accept her enough to let her stroke him, and felt a little sorry for her that she never got him to do so (unless it's part of the side quests that I haven't bothered doing yet). I put in the part about the territory marking side quest since I stumbled on its starting bit by accident. I also thought that since Yuri considers Repede a friend more than a pet, it would seem odd to think Repede considers Yuri his "master" – I imagined he would think of Yuri as a friend as well. Writing from a dog's perspective was interesting – I initially thought that since humans name their dogs, why not let Repede name his humans? I thought that since most dog names are just simple, single words, to just do the same with Repede's naming – mage-girl, princess, archer etc.


End file.
